Fear of Being Pummeled
by Working-On-Sanity
Summary: When Jessie was angry, she hit. Both James and Meowth had learned this from experience. But neither one would have expected that Jessie would show remorse for her actions, or that she would apologize in such a terrifying way. Jessie/James.


**FEAR OF BEING PUMMELED **

**Summary: **When Jessie was angry, she hit. Both James and Meowth had learned this from experience. But neither one would have expected that Jessie would show remorse for her actions, or that she would apologize in such a terrifying way. Jessie/James

**Author's Note: **This is possibly one of the most 'romantic' things I've written, and between Jessie and James no less. Ah, well. I kind of like it. And it's a lot longer than my last one. Maybe this shall be incentive for me to finish my next RocketShipping one-shot. Hurray. I don't know if that was sarcastic or not.

Also, this is in part dedicated to an amazing RocketShipper and an fantastic reviewer. You know who you are, and so do I.

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><p>"Is anyone there?" Jessie's whisper floated through the crisp midnight air, seeming to travel on top of the sudden burst of frosted wind. Above her crouching figure, the moon was suspended in the murky purple sky like a thin white cracker biscuit, and its silvery green light sent shadows oozing from the overhanging trees.<p>

She squinted into the darkness that clouded the building in front of her, but the inviting sound of gushing water distracted her attention and made the reply she was awaiting barely audible.

"I don't see a thing," James called, his voice quiet, yet quaking with excitement. Jessie could only discern the outline of his silhouetted form as he appeared dozens of meters ahead. He raised his arm, waving quickly to signal that it was safe to advance.

Jessie stood up so hurriedly that the spiked heels of her boots bit down into the wet earth, and she hastened to brush away the fragments of dried foliage that had clung to her skirt while she had been kneeling behind the hedge of evergreen bushes. Beside her, Meowth sleepily roused himself to his feet, wearily blinking his large yellow eyes. Coiling his tail over his back, he wrinkled his snout in a gaping yawn and curled his long tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"That took longer than I thought it would've," he mumbled, pushing himself up to stand in his normal fashion. "So all James's scoutin' was just to make sure that the bathhouse was empty? That seems like an awful lot'ta trouble for somethin' like that."

Jessie shoved her way through the wall of shrubbery, pushing the vines and branches away. Meowth scampered at her heels, stepping in her footprints to avoid having his fur snagged by preying thorns.

"You know that James and I want to be in the same room," she reminded, almost insultingly. "I have to keep watch on him––who knows what he'd do if he was in a room full of men wearing nothing but towels?"

She said this so vehemently that the hair lining Meowth's nape raised involuntarily, the venom in her tone startling him.

"Aw, Jess, don't be like that," he pleaded. "You know Jimmy ain't never done nothin' like that. But I guess it does make sense that you two want to wait until this late to come here––whoever supervises the place wouldn't let you and him stay together."

Jessie did not answer, but if she had found it necessary to do so, Meowth would have been unable to hear her. She had quickened her pace to a rolling gallop that was clumsy in her unsuitable footwear, but enthusiasm made her gait steady and she had managed to cover yards of terrain in a few flying strides, leaving Meowth behind.

Meowth really could not comprehend why they were so amusingly eager to bathe. He himself detested water in any form outside of a canteen. But perhaps it was merely because Jessie and James were ridiculously fastidious––normally, the only way for them to wash was with lukewarm water and a sponge, and rarely were they given the luxury of any shampoos other than a bar of harsh brown pine soap. Thus, the mere thought of steaming water and chamomile conditioners made them salivate with anticipation.

"Come on," James urged, fidgeting beside the tall gate. His gloved fingers had already attached to the knob, and he twisted and turned it impatiently as Jessie stumbled toward him.

"I don't know why you have to make _me _stay here," James complained in a small whine. "I thought I should go crazy, having to wait for so long while you fussed and––"

"Shut up," she said defensively, glaring directly into his narrowed green eyes. Panting from exertion, she remained bent over for a moment, her hands pressed to her knees.

"Really, Jessie." James sighed, a note of superiority stretching his words so strongly that Jessie had to resist the impulse to pummel him into submission. She stood up, slamming her hands onto her hips and pulling her posture up straight.

"Well, if you're going to make such a scene over it, we may as well go in," she said nonchalantly, hiding her own lust for an hour-long bath. James began to fumble with the dented brass knob on the gate, and shoved it open, the weathered hinges groaning from overuse.

A cloud of steam billowed from inside the fenced-in area, and heat made their skin tingle. Jessie greedily inhaled the overwhelming scent of lavender that cocooned them, and it smelled so alluring that she immediately relaxed.

"Hurry up, James," she snapped, barreling ahead. Her heels clicked against the concrete, the sound rapidly fading, and James shook his head in mock exasperation.

"She's insane, Meowth."

"_You're _accusing Jess of bein' insane?" Meowth asked incredulously. "I wouldn't tack labels on anyone if _I _was in your fancy designer boots, Jimmy. You've got more rocks up there in that shiny head than's in that pond over there."

James laughed, detecting Meowth's teasing tone. "You're probably right," he agreed. "And that's precisely why I need you to come with us inside. If I'm that empty-headed, I'll need someone to shield my tail from a certain trigger happy Jessie."

"Nah." Meowth brushed away the cowardly request as if it were a weather prediction. "I don't want to be in no hot springs. Like sittin' in a terrarium. Makes me all sticky and wet. I think I'll stay where I am. Anyways, Jessie ain't goin' to lay into you right now, you big sissy. She'll be too busy scrubbin' her hair those one hundred times she says makes it soft."

"I guess." James sniffed daintily, offended by Meowth's lack of concern for his safety. "Well, if I come out all battered, it'll be on no one's conscience but your own."

"See the tears I shed," Meowth drawled sarcastically. "Now stop yappin' and get in there 'fore Jessie _does _serve your backside to you on a silver tray. I ain't goin' to stay out here for more'n thirty minutes, so if you ain't done with your bath by then, I'm takin' our balloon back home."

"Please, don't!" Not keen on the idea of being stranded alone with Jessie, James apologetically grinned, taking oversized steps backward. He stumbled into the threshold, and Meowth only had to quirk an eyebrow warningly before James spun around, scurrying wildly into the building.

Even through the dense, sweet-smelling haze of steam, James immediately saw Jessie's long tail of red hair. She had already raided the supply of complimentary soap and towels, a small untidy pile of which lay stacked at her feet. She barely spared James a glance as he slunk past her, lifting himself up on tiptoes to scour the top of the shelves for a small tube of shampoo.

"Don't bother looking," Jessie piped, her voice hollow as it echoed. "I took the last of the soap, so if you want some, you'll have to wait until I'm done."

James pressed his tongue against his teeth, squinting irately down at the concrete floor. "May I please use a bit? I don't want to wait while you wash, and I won't use very much."

A pause filled the air with silence as Jessie struggled to unzip the back of her starched denim uniform jacket. "I guess," she replied stiffly, her words muffled as she tugged the rumples of fabric over her head. She discarded it on the ground, racing to wriggle out of her undershirt and unhook her bra. Baskets to hold their clothes were always available for their convenience, but they had never accepted the courtesy, opting instead to deposit their garments alongside the tile edge of the pool.

Unbuttoning her skirt and letting it fall in a heap around her ankles, she stepped out of it, jerking one leg up to pry off her boot. Doing the same with her other shoe, she gripped them by the straps and hurled them at James. He narrowly escaped being struck soundly by the sharp heel, dropping his own jacket to curl his arms in front of him. The boots tumbled into his hold, and he gazed at them, stunned.

"Put them beside yours," Jessie called, peeling off her cotton panties. She flicked them aside, and reached behind to pull her hair into a bun, settling it securely on the back of her neck. James hadn't even arranged her pair of boots next to his own before a thundering splash sent foaming ripples across the water and a spray of droplets over him.

He swerved around to scan the surface of the pool, and all was still for mere moments before Jessie bobbed up, sputtering and blinking water from her eyes. Upon noticing James's distraught expression, she gave a coughing laugh, wiping away the tendrils of hair that had plastered to her face.

"Scared you, huh? Good. Now get in here before I use up all the soap." At her command, James fell into a flurry of frightened action, yanking off his gloves and using one to tie his hair back into a short knot. He shivered in the humid air, perspiration beading on his forehead and shoulders as he timidly stepped toward the tremulous water.

"What, are you afraid?" Jessie asked, mocking his hesitation. She shoved her hands through the water, sending miniature tidal waves flapping toward James. The water lapped at his feet, spilling over the edge of the pool, and he stared down at it, biting his lip, before hesitantly lowering himself in. He hissed, the scalding water swallowing his quaking body.

"Feels pretty good," Jessie commented, wading closer. Her movements sent the water swirling around James, the waves seeming to hug him comfortingly. Sighing with gratitude, he burrowed deeper into the warmth, his eyes languidly closing as he relished the sensation. His calmness did not last long, however; realizing how mellow he had become, Jessie kicked her toes against his shin, the action slow beneath the heavy water.

"Don't you be going to sleep, now," she warned. "That's the last thing I need, to have our pictures in the newspaper beneath the headline, 'Girl Saves Pansy Man From Drowning in Hot Springs'."

Drowsily, James glanced over at her, not offended by the way she huffily crossed her arms over her bare breasts. A minute grin tweaked his mouth as he leaned back, lazily skimming his fingertip over the glassy water.

"Mm-hm," he hummed, refusing to gauge her reaction to his indifference. "I doubt you'd risk your hide to save mine. Now, Meowth, he _is _a doll. He'd be the type to jump in and rescue me, no matter what." He smirked as Jessie disdainfully wrinkled her nose, glaring at him in disgust.

"I bet," she grumbled. "And he'd also be the type to––what's that?"

"What?" James had raised his arms behind his head to absentmindedly twirl his ponytail around his finger, but froze in place as he followed Jessie's gaze. She was staring curiously at his forearm, and he self-consciously tucked his hands behind his back.

"I––it isn't a––anything," he stammered, interlacing his fingers tightly as Jessie padded closer. Discomfort washed over him as she lowered one arm from her chest, her breasts bouncing free from the constriction as she shot forward to grab his shoulder. She shook him vigorously, loosening his fingers and wresting his arm from behind him.

"What was that?" she repeated, cupping his elbow to twist his arm around. "It looked like a _tattoo _or something. You haven't been slithering around town at night, have you?"

"No! It's not that," he protested, squirming. Jessie tightly grasped his wrist, and dubiously inspected the mottled blue smear that darkened his white skin.

"That's a bruise." Jessie peered into his eyes, an intense frown clouding her countenance as she glowered. "And a bad one, too. Who did it." The way she presented the question was not as an inquiry, but a firm statement.

"I don't know," James lamely answered, weakly attempting to detach Jessie's fingers from his wrist and finally resting his unsteady hand on hers. "Let me go, Jess. It doesn't hurt anymore. I'm alright."

"No. I want to know who hurt you." She increased the strength of her grip, tightening her hand around the small girth of his arm.

"I don't _know_!" James howled. "I fell, okay? It must have happened when we wrecked our balloon."

"I don't believe that," Jessie grit out. "I wouldn't have ever heard the end of it if that had been the case. Now tell me who did it. Did you start dating again? Is the guy hurting you? Or are you getting into fights? Are you out during the night on that wretched scooter, wrecking right and left? Are you doing it to yourself?"

During Jessie's rant, James had shrank back in fear, a shrill ringing ricocheting in his ears and scorching tears sliding to poise on his lashes. Dare she honestly assume that he was intimate with an abusive boyfriend? Or that he was picking the black streets for a chance to hurl himself into a skirmish? Or that he even left her alone at night at all?

"I––I would never do any of that," he said helplessly, his voice thin and cracking unpleasantly on the last syllable. "And it's awful that you think I would, Jessie. You don't have anymore trust in me than that? You _know _me. You know I'm too afraid... to ever go somewhere at night without you... or to..."

His vision blurred, Jessie's image fading into a smudge of scarlet.

"James, who––" Jessie wasn't given the opportunity to roll the rest of the sentence off her tongue before James wrenched away, flags of red erupting in his cheeks.

"It was _you, _Jessie," he snapped, forcing all the courage he could muster into his announcement. "It was you who did it."

And before he could stalk away, the thread of boldness that held him together unraveled. He bent his knees, smacking his palm against the side of his face to conceal his shameful flush. Jessie said nothing for several long moments, and her silence only served to worsen James's condition. A strangled sob climbed from his throat, and he began to tremble with suppressed whines, struggling to contain those miserable whimpers that always came after admitting something he didn't want to.

"Turn around." Jessie's order was stern and left no room for compromise. James quickly obeyed, sloshing through the water to expose his back to Jessie's scrutiny. He tightened his shoulders, cringing against the heat of her examination. She swept her unwavering glare over the light sketches of soft muscle, his pitifully thin frame, the dips and slight bulges of bone beneath his skin.

"There are bruises all over you." Her hand descended on his shoulder, guiding him around to face her. She angrily regarded how fragile he seemed, the glittering reflection of the water dancing in small streamers of light across his body. He appeared so delicate––a porcelain figurine huddled amidst the glistening teal waters that were so much larger than he. Why had she sought to harm him? She jerked her hand back, startled to realize that the round tips of her manicured nails were digging painfully into his flesh.

"James, I––you..." She saw them––apologies floated through her mind in endless ribbons. She could _hear _her own voice, pleading with James to accept her penance, but she knew James couldn't hear her. Her lips parted, forming the words, but her throat blocked them from passing.

"You bruise more easily than any man should."

The insult left a bitter taste in her mouth, and she clicked her teeth together, horrified by what she had just said. _That _was all she could manage, a jeer? When James was crying, over something truly significant, something more important than having no shampoo or coarse hair? Why was it impossible for her to offer any comfort? She was a stone wall, holding back anything that would lovingly rub away James's tears.

James emptily watched the flickering of her eyes, beseechingly searching for any hints of regret. But Jessie's blue irises remained cold, the tiny flecks of silver gleaming with shattered pride.

"J––Jessie," he choked, her closeness sending a chill crawling down his spine that even the hot water could not ward off. Her thighs were pressed against his hips, her firm stomach pressed flush against his own. James stared blankly into her face, refusing to acknowledge the wet softness of her breasts being squeezed between his chest and hers.

Being so near to her didn't ignite the fluttering tickles in his belly that he knew were romantic––if he had been in the same position with another woman, or even a man, he would have found himself tingling with anticipation for what was likely to happen next. But––as one could only crudely describe it––he beheld her with a fascination that was normally reserved only for siblings. A brother would be captivated by his sister's feminine shape, but also disgusted, knowing that such relations were to be respected. James could honestly say he could relate to that example.

He couldn't pretend to be enjoying how roughly she shoved her fingers through his hair, tightly clutching her fists into the soaked fringe, tugging incessantly as if the hurt would relieve him. And he couldn't fib about being agitated by how she melded into the curves of his figure, stroking the side of her leg along the sloping angle of his hip. But he understood that she was suffering in desperation; if this was the only apology she could stir up, then he would receive it as she wished, knowing that she felt remorseful enough to repent of her deeds.

She leaned forward, resting her entire weight on James and forcing him to flail for a grip on the edge of the pool. He burrowed further into the corner, stretching in her embrace. He was suddenly acutely aware of how _hot _he was, sweat rolling down the protruding cord of his neck to collect in his collarbone, mingling with the water. Grayness began to eat at his sight, and he panted for a breath that wasn't clogged with warm steam.

"James..." Jessie began to mumble against his cheek, her chapped lips grazing his skin. "If I ever hurt you like that again, I want you to tell me. Just so I can ease up a little bit."

James grimaced, Jessie's breath prickling as it ghosted over his jaw. And he abruptly realized that she was solemn. _Serious_. She wasn't making a joke out of the matter. He couldn't remember her ever showing concern for him, and he wasn't entirely sure that he appreciated it. But Jessie was doing and saying things that she would never say to someone else, and he supposed that in itself was sufficient as apology.

"It's okay, Jessie," he sighed shakily, shifting in her arms, and the tears that he thought had been repressed advanced once more. They poured from the corners of his eyes, making his lashes sticky; steadily, the fat droplets sank to the underside of his chin before dripping into Jessie's hair.

And as simply as that, the bubble that had been built surrounding them burst. Jessie withdrew, removing her arms from around James's middle and immediately folding them over her bosom to enhance the suppleness of her cleavage. She glanced away, ignoring James entirely as he clamped his arms around his sides, hugging himself and swaying back and forth.

"Well, um..." Jessie coughed indiscreetly, holding her hands beneath her elbows. "Like I said, you sissy, if I get too rough again, I'm giving you permission to tell me. But that doesn't mean I'm keeping off you entirely. Everyone needs a good beating with a switch sometimes."

"Or with a jar," James added quietly, on impulse. "Or a curtain rod. Or a rolled-up magazine. Or a brick. Or––"

"Shut up," Jessie interrupted, surprisingly belligerent. "Don't make me feel guilty. I'm not apologizing again. Ever. So I hope you savored that moment."

James idly licked the beads of perspiration from his upper lip, tasting the essence of how he had felt a minute earlier. Raising his head, he gave a triumphant smile, his jade eyes sparkling with the purity of a wholesome victory.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I have one final word that shall be spoken with utter passion.

"EEEW!"

On second thought, "Aw." Either one. It fluctuates. And I managed to kick myself in the rear with this one. I didn't think I'd be able to do it. I got nauseous after reading the epilogue of _The Electric Tale of Pikachu_. But I did it! I wrote RocketShipping that actually had them naked. Not my best, I admit, but it's a start for me. That's as far as I'm ever going, though. But again, I did it.

In my face!


End file.
